


I Wish I Were...

by NikAdair



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College AU, Hanahaki AU, Tsukki suffers, mentions of blood and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26142319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikAdair/pseuds/NikAdair
Summary: He was almost to his apartment when he went into a coughing fit. It was much worse than the ones he’d had a few days ago. It wracked his body and rattled his chest, leaving him breathless and shaky. Kei tried to breathe, but it came in shallow pants, his body unable to take in enough oxygen.He stood there for a few minutes, slowly being able to breathe as he wiped tears from his eyes. His chest felt like someone was standing on it, keeping him from catching his breath. It made his head pound, and every breath was painful. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he rasped, continuing forward.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	I Wish I Were...

**Author's Note:**

> Day Five of TsukkiYama Week! Taking a quick break from the fluff and adding in some angst. I used Hanahaki for today's prompt.  
> I was heavily debating on writing angst for today, solely because I'm not very good at it. I even thought about writing Hanahaki and having it have a happy ending. But it seemed more fitting to have it be a sad ending.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

The pain started a month before finals.

It began as nothing more than a cold. Late fall had always plagued Kei with a cold, as far as he could remember. So when he started getting a headache and chest congestion, he just brushed it off. It wasn’t anything to worry about.

That didn’t mean that Tadashi didn’t notice. “Are you getting sick, Kei?” he asked, looking at him as he blew his nose for the umpteenth time that night.

Kei waved him off with a cough. “It’s just a cold. Always happens around this time. Don’t worry about it.”

Tadashi gave him a look that Kei knew as him debating on whether to push it or not, but he didn’t. Instead, he pushed his tea over to Kei, who took it and took a sip, sighing a little from the warm spreading through his chest.

His phone blipped, and he saw Akiteru’s name flashing.

**Akiteru** : Hey, when’s your next volleyball match?

Kei scowled down a little.

**Kei** : I thought I told you to stop coming to them.  
**Akiteru** : Like I would ever miss one of your matches.  
**Kei** : I’m not telling you.  
**Akiteru** : Do I need to ask Tadashi?  
**Kei** : Don’t you dare.

Tadashi’s phone blipped a second later. “Kei, why is your brother texting me?”

“That asshole,” he said. Tadashi looked at him in confusion before focusing back on his phone.

“He wants to know when your next match is,” he said, showing Kei the text.

“Tell him never. He’s not invited.” Tadashi tapped a reply and Kei’s phone blipped again.

**Akiteru** : I can always count on Tadashi to tell me.

Kei looked at Tadashi, who smiled innocently at him. “You told him?”

Tadashi scratched the back of his neck. “Well, yeah. You always smile a little when he’s there.”

His face flushed and he looked away. “I do not. Shut up, Tadashi,” he said, his voice pitched higher than usual. It made his face burn more.

“Sorry, Kei, but it’s true,” Tadashi laughed. Kei threw a pencil at him, but it only made him laugh harder.

“Tadashi!!”

-.-.-

It was at practice a few days later that things turned far worse than a cold.

Kei had been dealing with a migraine all day. Classes had been horrible, his head throbbing and the lights feeling like knives in his eyes. He’d taken some painkillers at lunch, hoping they’d stave off the pain, but it didn’t seem to help. By the time practice came around, every step seemed like a hammer to his head.

“Kei, are you sure you should be out? You look ready to pass out,” Tadashi said from the locker next to him.

“I can’t not show up to practice. Our next match is in two weeks,” Kei said, wincing at the sound of a locker slamming shut somewhere in the locker room.

Tadashi grabbed his arm, and he looked over at him. “Kei, please. It’s one practice. All we’re working on is blocking. You definitely don’t need to be here for that.”

Kei bit his cheek, wincing as another locker was slammed shut. Tadashi looked up at him, pleading with him, and he sighed. “I’ll talk to Coach and head home.” He saw relief flood over Tadashi’s face, and Kei grabbed his bag, slamming his locker, wincing at the sound.

Their coach was actually far more concerned with Kei’s health than he was at having him there. “You’re an exceptional middle blocker, and we’d be hard pressed to find someone to replace you if you were still sick by the time the match came around. Get some rest, Tsukishima.”

He nodded, shouldering his bag. His coach nodded back, walking back towards the court, and Kei turned towards the doors, seeing Tadashi there. He walked over, coughing a bit and groaning as his head throbbed. “Please tell me you’re going home,” Tadashi said.

Kei nodded, leaning against the door frame. “Coach wants me to go home and rest, so I guess that’s what I’ll do. I’ll see you after practice,” he said. Tadashi nodded, and Kei walked out of the gym, starting home.

It was during the walk that his cold seemed to get so much worse.

He was almost to his apartment when he went into a coughing fit. It was much worse than the ones he’d had a few days ago. It wracked his body and rattled his chest, leaving him breathless and shaky. Kei tried to breathe, but it came in shallow pants, his body unable to take in enough oxygen.

He stood there for a few minutes, slowly being able to breathe as he wiped tears from his eyes. His chest felt like someone was standing on it, keeping him from catching his breath. It made his head pound, and every breath was painful. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he rasped, continuing forward.

He was breathless by the time he got inside his apartment, the stairs having taken much longer to climb than they should’ve. It left him gasping for air, and he dropped to his knees, clutching at his chest as it burned for oxygen.

Kei closed his eyes, tears that he’d been unaware of falling. He forced himself to breathe despite the choking feeling he had. He coughed, hard, and something dislodged itself. It made him gag, and he pulled a tissue from his pocket, spitting into it. He cracked an eye open to make sure it landed in the trash, and froze when he saw the tissue.

There were petals -- actual flower petals -- sitting in the tissue. Red and white petals bunched up together almost in a knot. He dropped the tissue, coughing again. More petals fell from his mouth, and he stared down at them. “What the hell?” he wheezed.

He threw them away, burying them deep in the trash, away from where Tadashi would see them. “Tadashi…” He didn’t need to know about it. Didn’t need to worry about him.

He dragged himself to his feet, walking to his room and falling on his bed. Pulling his laptop out of his bag, he turned it on and typed ‘coughing flower petals’ into the search bar . It took him a bit of digging, but he eventually found something.

“Hanahaki disease, or unrequited love. An illness that happens when someone has one sided love for someone else. Characterized by coughing up flower petals,” Kei mumbled to himself, feeling the urge to cough again but pushing it down. “Symptom progression varies between cases. Yeah, yeah, whatever. How the hell do I get rid of it?”

Kei scrolled down further, reading through the article, a sense of dread settling in his stomach. “Petals originate from the other person’s favourite flowers.”

\---

_ “Kei, look, they have chrysanthemums here,” Tadashi said, stopping in front of the flower shop. _

_ “Aren’t those the flowers you give to your mom for Mother’s Day?” Kei said, pausing next to him. _

_ Tadashi rolled his eyes, looking up at him. “Maybe, I don’t really know. But they’re my favourites.” _

\---

“Chrysanthemums…” Kei scrambled out of bed, running to the hall trash and digging through it, pulling out the petals. His hands had started shaking, and they fell to the floor, scattering below him. But it was so obvious now.

Something lurched in his stomach, and he dropped to his knees. The chrysanthemum petals drifted away from the fall, creating an arc around him. Kei clutched his chest. “No, please, not this. Anything but this,” he whispered, panic starting to set in.

He whipped his head up, a single thought going through his mind. “How do I cure this? There has to be a cure.” He walked back to his room on shaky legs, grabbing his forgotten phone. His eyes scanned quickly over the page, disregarding most of the information, until he came to a section titled CURE.

“Three ways to cure it. Returned feelings. Death. Surgical removal.” Kei paused on the last one, reading more into it. “Flower plants are surgically removed from the patient’s body, but this has drawbacks. The patient loses all feelings for the person, as well as sometimes losing all their memories of them, and can even lose all ability to love.”

He dropped his phone, his eyes wide. He didn’t want to lose his memories of Tadashi. Didn’t want to forget him -- forget their childhood, their friendship, anything. He started coughing, petals falling from his mouth. “What the hell am I going to do?”

-.-.-

Kei got worse as the weeks went by.

It was the day of their match, and Kei was feeling lethargic and exhausted. His trash can was filled with flower petals and tissues, and there were more littered around his bed. At some point, he’d started coughing up spots of blood with the petals, and it would’ve worried him more if he weren’t so exhausted.

There was a knock at his door, and he rolled over, looking away from it. “Kei? Are you awake?” Tadashi called hesitantly. Kei groaned, curling in on himself.

Tadashi still didn’t know. Kei hadn’t told him, didn’t know  _ how _ to tell him. How do you tell your best friend you’re dying because you’re in love with them?

Tadashi knocked on the door again. “Kei? We have a team meeting in an hour.”

“Fuck,” Kei said under his breath, sitting up and coughing. For once, petals didn’t fall, but it still left his chest aching. “Yeah. I’ll be out in a few,” he called, his voice hoarse.

“I’ll have tea ready,” Tadashi said. Kei heard footsteps fading down the hall, and he groaned, bringing his knees to his chest.

He was scared. Any logical person would be. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what the best option was. He either died -- that thought made Kei laugh -- or he risked everything in telling Tadashi how he felt.

_ You’re too much of a coward to tell him _ , a small part of him said.  _ Why would you ever think that he’d still want to be friends afterwards? You’re better off dying. _

Kei shook his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. Even if he did tell Tadashi, there was no guarantee he’d reciprocate those feelings. And then what? Didn’t that leave him with the option of dying?

A coughing fit wracked Kei’s body, leaving him gasping for breath as petals fell from his mouth, more of them speckled with blood than any of them had before. He was dizzy, and spots flashed in his vision. “Fuck…”

He forced himself out of bed, wavering slightly as he stood. The room was spinning, and it took him a minute to be able to stand without fainting. He walked out of his room and went straight to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, there was blood in the corners of his mouth. His eyes were sunken, and his skin was pale. He looked like death.

There wasn’t much he could do except wash the blood away. He couldn’t let Tadashi know anything was wrong. “It’s just a chest cold,” he told himself, staring into watery eyes. “All you have is a chest cold. Nothing more.”

Kei took a shaky breath and walked out, heading to the kitchen, where he saw Tadashi making breakfast. There was a cup of tea on the counter, and he took it, humming at its warmth.

Tadashi jumped and turned, laughing at himself. “Jeez Kei, way to scare a guy. I swear, you’re like a cat some days.”

Kei snorted, hiding it in the cup. “That’s the worst comparison you’ve ever come up with.”

“Is not! Wait, none of my comparisons are bad!” Tadashi said, throwing a towel at Kei. It hit him in the face and fell to the floor, and they looked at each other before bursting out into laughter.

Kei took a drink of his tea, his throat spasming and making him choke a little. He cleared his throat as Tadashi’s phone alarm went off. “I guess we’re taking breakfast on the go?” he said, looking up at an annoyed looking Tadashi.

“We don’t really have a choice. Not if we want to make the meeting on time,” he said. “I’ll have it finished and packed in a few.” Kei nodded, taking his tea with him to his room.

There, the warmth in his chest turned to fire. He let out a strangled sound, and something forced itself out of his throat. He heard it fall to the floor with a sickening thud, and tears streamed down his face. When he could see again, lying at his feet was a bright red chrysanthemum flower. Blood was spattered over it, tinging the petals dark red. “Fuck…”

-.-.-

Kei knew he was going to die during the second set of the match.

Being the stubborn person he was, he’d been biting back coughing fits throughout the game, hiding the petals in his towel when he’d be subbed out with their libero. His chest was on fire, a feeling of barbs ripping through it. His throat felt like he’d swallowed glass, and his voice was so hoarse that he had just stopped talking altogether.

After the first match, he’d sat down, head dropped towards his chest as he tried -- and failed -- to get enough air into his lungs. It felt like he was breathing underwater. A hand landed on his shoulder, and his coach was standing in front of him, looking worried. “Are you okay to keep playing? We can send in someone else if we need.”

Kei shook his head tiredly. “No, I’m fine, coach. Just a chest cold, that’s all.”

His coach looked at him skeptically, but didn’t press the matter. “Just don’t push yourself too hard out there.”

He nodded, and his coach walked away, talking with the assistant coach. He sighed, dropping his head again.

“Kei?” Kei looked up, seeing Tadashi looking at him worriedly. “I don’t think you should keep playing.” Kei looked at him in stunned silence. “You’re overdoing it when you’re sick. If you keep doing this, you might end up in the hospital.”

He laughed a little at that, and Tadashi looked down at him. “Kei, I’m serious!”

“I know, Tadashi.” Kei stood, plastering a smile on his face. “I promise that I won’t let that happen. Now come on, we have a match to win.”

Tadashi didn’t look convinced, but Kei just smiled at him, taking his place on the court. He just had to make it through the match. Then he could go back to their apartment and sleep. That’s what he kept telling himself.

It was halfway through the second match when he realized he’d get to do that much sooner. Kei had served that rally, so he wasn’t able to be in position to block. Instead, he readied himself to dig the ball as it came flying over.

In his exhaustion, he’d miscalculated how far forward the ball was. He didn’t have time to react, and it slammed into his chest. He fell back, gasping for air, while his team sent the ball over, winning the rally. Kei tried to stand, but fell to his knees, his chest on fire.

“Coach!!” Tadashi yelled, running over to him. Kei was gasping, trying to breath, but he could feel flowers lodging in his throat. He coughed, hard, and petals started falling, blood coating them.

Every cough dislodged more petals, and soon whole flowers were spilling from his throat. He couldn’t breathe. His chest was on fire. He was dizzy and lightheaded. The sounds of the gym were growing distant.

A hand grabbed his own, and he looked up to see Tadashi crying, saying something he couldn’t hear. He lifted a hand, cupping Tadashi’s cheek. “I love you, Tadashi,” he gasped out before his vision blacked out. He drifted off to the sound of someone screaming his name.


End file.
